I had been elected mayor, someone informed me, some kind of bald campaign consultant. I wasn't sure how, since I hadn't run for the office, but I was suddenly swamped with attention. I was outside somewhere in St. Louis. I couldn't figure out where I was mayor of--University City or Olivette? I reasoned that if I awakened from the dream then I could google myself to find out, but gradually I realized that there was not any epistemological support outside of the dream for me being mayor of anywhere. In a bar I found some women who had switched my name with someone else on the ballot to elect me.
***
Earlier I was swimming across the continental US through oceanic waters, from West to East. I was trying to figure out how many hours it would take me, and came up with absurdly small numbers, like 37, though that judgment of absurdity is my waking conclusion.
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A la cabeza de mis propios actos,
corona en mano, batallón de dioses,
el signo negativo al cuello, atroces
el fósforo y la prisa, estupefactos
el alma y el valor, con dos impactos
al pie de la mirada; dando voces;
los límites, dinámicos, feroces;
tragándome los lloros inexactos,
me encenderé, se encenderá mi hormiga,
se encenderán mi llave, la querella
en que perdí la causa de mi huella.
Luego, haciendo del átomo una espiga,
encenderé mis hoces al pie de ella
y la espiga será por fin espiga.
--C.V.
These dreams seem stranger now. I had one and a student said it was about the book we were reading in class plus the article we had read about the book, which made sense and also made it all more mundane, but the dream was very vivid and was in the middle of the night, woke me up, felt important. Check it out:
I am from Eastern Europe and I am traveling or displaced to Paris, and occupied city, with my husband. I cannot see his face so do not know who he is but I know it is my husband and he is also from my country; I can see his hand and we have matching simple rings, and we are walking along together, traveling together. Also as marriage jewelry I have a bracelet on my right hand, broad and brass and bejeweled, that looks Moroccan or Egyptian or Afghani perhaps; the rings and this bracelet are recognized by everyone and are important to show so that we can get in places together, both get through checkpoints, have identities checked and confirmed. It is always the city and always night; we are well dressed and not afraid, but concerned. Our clothes are of good fabrics and the fabrics and stones in the buildings we pass through are stunningly beautiful as well.
We get to a checkpoint and once again the guards look at passport, wedding rings, and my wedding bracelet. Then they ask if I still have my gold jewelry. I do but do not want to show it, for fear they may be dishonest, but have no choice and show them the box. It looks something like the box I actually have, and some of what in it resembles what I actually have, but there is more and it is all richer. The guards look at it and say yes, good, you still have it and it's all there, go on through.
Then I wake up. What I find odd about the dream is that everyone knows what I am supposed to be in possession of and wants to make sure I have some of it for purposes of identifying me, and they know about the box of treasure and are charged with making sure it is intact.
More, somehow related to this. I used to remember dreams all the time and then did not but they are coming back. They are vague like yours above, with odysseys. Here are two more traveling dreams.
1/ I go to an academic workshop I usually go to. Last time I met this woman I really liked but I did not expect to see her this time as she was planning to take maternity leave. But she has come anyway. Everything is very bright.
2/ I visit a colleague at UCLA. He leaves all his library books in a locker in the department office, habitually, because the offices are so far away he does not go to his much. He has office hours in the union or the library. I am shown the office and really it is like a small timeshare, minus kitchen but the offices are actually mini apartments, probably because of commuting. Then colleague is gone and a real estate agent is there, who wants to rent me the office. It is even equipped with vinyl records, she says, everything you need for entertaining. I say it is lovely but I cannot, and so then she wants to charge me for having offered. I am bamboozled, horrified, refuse, and then escape by waking up.
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